India, May 15 -- In cities, traditions slowly fade, until one day, nobody remembers when they disappeared, and no one anyway has the time to notice what has been permanently lost. Delhi's game wali kulfi is close to that precipice.

Even so, on scorching afternoons, at least one street vendor still hawks this unusual phenomenon. Look for him in the lanes of the Walled City. Citizen Nizam returns to these pages because he is among the last surviving custodians of a summertime tradition that blends dessert with gambling-harmless gambling, really. This late morning, he is at Turkman Gate Bazar, bearing the familiar smile, and the same hand-painted cart, the same kulfi.

Everyone knows kulfi. It is icy cold, milky, sweet, soft, and often moul...